


Teeth

by fvckingavengers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut, Vampire!Bucky, demon!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckingavengers/pseuds/fvckingavengers
Summary: Vampire!Bucky - touch starved and longing. Based off of the song by 5 Seconds of Summer.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	Teeth

Rockford, Illinois. 

Early September. 

The leaves are starting to die out, turning that pale shade of yellow before they fall from the twigs in tall hanging trees. The air is cool and crisp. A tease of the cold winter yet to come. Women walk around wrapped in their Burberry scarves and Ugg boots while carrying venti pumpkin spiced lattes.

It makes Bucky sick.

Autumn used to be his favorite season. The cooler weather would coax people out from their cozy homes. They’d have backyard campfires or take evening strolls in the park lit only by the setting sun and dim street lamps. Now everyone’s got a goddamn fireplace in their living room and bright flashlights on their cell phones to cut through the darkness.

The times have not been kind to hungry vampires.

And God, he was starved. In every sense of the word.

He was hungry, yes. Craved a cocktail of fresh, warm, crimson blood. Thick and heavy as it flows down his throat like a comforting glass of warm milk. Misses the taste of copper coated on his tongue.

But he’s also touch starved. It’s been too long since he’s had the company of a woman. Had his face buried between a pair of smooth thighs and his cock snugly enclosed by a tight cunt. 

He grows hard just from the thought of it.

Sam nudges him with his elbow to shake him of his thoughts.

“I know that look, Barnes. Keep it in your pants. We’re hunting for food, not a playmate.” He warns.

Bucky growls lowly and clenches his jaw. “I can feast after I fuck.” He defends himself.

The sky is dark. Stars twinkle in the purple black blanket. A breeze rolls in and Bucky stiffens at the scent that follows. Floral and feminine with a touch of musk. Lavender and honey. And, sulfur? He follows it. Leaves Sam sitting on the park bench without a word.

The dry, decaying leaves rustle from where they hang and crunch under his feet as he walks. He’s almost intoxicated by the smell. Hears two different heartbeats thrumming in his ears as he gains closer. One is fast paced. Panicked. The other is calm. Steady. Focused.

There’s just enough light for him to make out the scene. A man on the ground, crawling away as he stares up in terror. A woman stalking after him slowly. She wears a wicked grin and with his enhanced hearing, Bucky makes out her melodic laugh. She’s amused by the frightened man.

She’s dressed in black. Tight leather leggings and a leather jacket to match. Her lips are painted red. She’s fucking breathtaking. Bucky doesn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he gasps when the man yells out in pain as the woman sucks his soul from his body. When she’s finished with her prey, she looks back in his direction, a smirk stretched across her face.

She approaches him and he stands unmoving. He’s entranced.

“He’s all yours.” Her hand brushes against his arm and he feels electricity spark through his body. Feels _alive._ “Share with your friend.” 

She nods behind Bucky and he turns to see Sam heading over. When he turns back, she’s gone. The only evidence of her is the dead guy laying ten feet away.

“Did you just see —“

“Yeah, I saw.” Sam says flatly. “But I’m too fuckin’ hungry to talk about it right now.” He pushes past him and kneels to the ground, taking the arm of the man and pushing his shirt sleeve up. “If you don’t get over here, there’s not gonna be anything left.”

Bucky exhales heavily through his nose and wills himself to move. He joins Sam and goes straight for the neck, sinking his teeth through flesh and sucking the remaining life source from the body until they’re both content.

-

“We got a problem.” Sam huffs, plopping on the sofa when he and Bucky return to their temporary home.

Steve raises a brow and crosses his arms over his chest, looking across at him and Bucky from his spot on the recliner.

“Buck’s gone gaga for a demon.”

“Have fucking not, shut the fuck up, Wilson.” Bucky snarls.

Steve would be amused if it weren’t for Sam’s declaration. He purses his lips and looks up at the long haired brunette. “Do you really need to hear the riot act?”

“No.” Bucky says firmly. He shrugs and sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s been months since I’ve had my dick buried in something, okay? She sparked an interest, it was an impulse reaction is all.”

“Oh, she sparked somethin’ alright. Thought he was gonna cum right there in his jeans.” Sam chuckles, dodging a pillow thrown in his direction.

“You’re on fucking thin ice, Wilson.” Bucky punches Sam in the arm as he passes him, grinning when the man yelps. “M’going to bed before you bust my chops anymore and ya make me drive a stake through your chest.”

Steve watches his friend disappear down the hall and laughs to himself. “That bad, huh?”

“Dude watched her suck the soul from some poor bastard and I swear I heard him _whimper_. He enjoyed seeing it as much as she enjoyed doing it.” Sam picks at some lint on his sweater and shakes his head.

Steve looks in the direction of Bucky’s room and sighs. “M’not surprised. There’s always been something dark inside of him. Let’s just hope he doesn’t run into her again. A starved man like Buck is dangerous.”

-

You come to him in a fever dream.

Sweat stains his sheets and his chest heaves as he struggles to breathe.

_Your tongue sweeps over your crimson colored lips. He’s enticed by your eyes. Beautiful orbs swimming in an inhuman darkness._

_You’re on your knees beside a woman in her early 40s. A fresh kill. It’s a stunning contrast to the view surrounding them both._

_The grass is plush and green and the tulips are beginning to bloom. It’s springtime. People flutter around aimlessly on the gorgeous sunny day. He’s anxious._

_“We can’t— S-Someone will see.“_

_He tries to warn you._

_You rise to your feet, the corners of your mouth now stained by dark red blood._

_“For you.” You nod your head to the side, to the empty vessel laying on the ground._

_He jumps slightly when your hand slides into his own. He laces his fingers with yours and you close the space between your bodies. “You’re not the only one who likes a little danger.”_

_He becomes drunk on your words, shivers as your breath fans over his lips._

_He loses control of himself in that instant. Wraps his free hand around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, meshing his mouth against your own and plunging his tongue passed your lips, tasting you. The blood coating the wet muscle is like sweet nectar to him._

He wakes with a jolt. His body convulses for a few moments and his throat is dry as he swallows thickly. He groans when he feels the warmth of his mess strewn over his abdomen. His cock throbs, still unsatisfied despite the orgasm he endured.

His head falls heavy on his pillow and his eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck.” He mutters, wiping a hand down his face.

-

For two weeks, he’s consumed with thoughts of you. He’s distracted when he, Sam and Steve go hunting for food. Sam suggests he go out for a night on the town. Find some random soft body to unleash his frustrations on. He’s uninterested in every woman he comes across. Putting it simply, none of them are you. The mysterious demon goddess that he’s forbidden to touch. That fact only makes him ache more.

A month passes from that night in the park. Steve insists on leaving Illinois and finding a new temporary residence.

The three of them wind up in California.

West Hollywood.

Bucky hates it and has no problem showing it.

“The fucking sunshine state? Really, Rogers?” He gripes.

“That’s Florida, you dumb fuck. California is the golden state.” Steve replies dully. 

“What are you complaining for?” Sam prods. “We’re in the best place imaginable. The girls are as easy as they come and more than likely, they’ve got some kind of drug running through their bloodstream. You get a meal and high for free.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but it’s hidden by his dark tinted sunglasses. He slumps further into the passenger seat as Steve drives down Sunset Boulevard. “I mean, look around. The Roxy, The Viper Room, Whiskey a Go Go. We’re gonna be set for a while.”

“Whatever.” Bucky growls, folding his arms over his chest and brooding like a teenager.

-

He sees you one night at The Roxy. It reeks like booze and pot and his vision is slightly impaired by the neon lights clouded by smoke. Arctic Monkeys pumps through the speakers and if he had a heartbeat, it would match the fast tempo of the song.

“Barnes?” Sam tries, nudging him with his arm. 

But he’s too focused on watching the way your body moves to the music. You’re alone. At least, as far as he can tell you are. You probably have your own crew like he does. A tight knit group of demon sisters, slaying any and everyone they please.

The red corset like bodysuit you wear pushes your tits up perfectly and the high waisted shorts that hug your hips cut off just below your ass. He’s thankful for the dim lighting that conceals his hard on.

“Bucky?” Steve calls, his tone more forceful than Sam.

“It’s her.” He mutters.

“Her who?” Steve’s brows furrow as he looks in the direction Bucky’s transfixed in. He opens his mouth to repeat the question, but Bucky’s not there to give a reply.

His feet carry him over to the pool table where you stand, prepping your stick and racking up the balls. You’re bent over slightly and you look up at him through your lashes. The smirk that spreads across your face nearly sends him to his grave right then and there.

“Hey, Twilight.” You tease.

“Bucky.” He corrects.

“Bucky.” His name rolls off of your tongue and he has to will himself not to bust a nut in the middle of the semi-crowded nightclub. “Wanna play with me?”

Your tone is too calm and painstakingly innocent in contrast with the devilish twinkle in your eyes. 

_Little fucking minx._

He catches the pool stick you toss over the table and watches you line up at the cue ball, shooting and pocketing three solid colored balls.

“So,” He starts, leaning down to calculate his shot. “You liking L.A. more than up north?”

You snicker at his idea of small talk, but play along to humor him. “No. Hate it actually. I prefer the cloudy and cold. But my sisters insisted on relocating. Where the pack goes, I must follow.”

He picks up on the annoyance in your tone. “Yeah, I can relate.” He huffs.

Sam knocks back his third shot of tequila and leans over to lick the salt from his latest prey’s clavicle. His eyes almost flutter shut for a moment, when he spots a redheaded bombshell at the other end of the bar. His eyes widen and he nearly pushes the girl off of him to get over to Steve.

“Is that who I think it is?” He points, hoping Steve denies his suspicion.

“Shit. It’s Romanoff.” Steve confirms. “The sisters can’t be far. We need to get outta here.” He swivels in the barstool and looks around in the sea of people for the third of his party. “Where the hell is Buck?”

Sam groans and hits Steve’s shoulder, pointing over to the pool tables. “That man is gonna get himself killed over demon pussy.”

Steve sighs heavily and pushes his way through the crowd.

You sense the shift in atmosphere and look past Bucky at the sneering blonde. “Well, Bucky, I think this is where I bid you goodnight.” Your hand brushes over his. The touch leaves his skin burning. “Until next time.” You wink.

Within a second, you’re gone. Vanished in thin air. Your absence leaves a sting in his chest. It infuriates him. He doesn’t understand the hold you have on him. He doesn’t have much time to think about it before Steve’s yanking him by his shirt collar and hauling him outside.

“I thought you knew better!” Steve exclaims, pushing Bucky backwards. “You wanna get yourself killed? You wanna get all of us killed?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and makes his way to the car. “Don’t make a scene, Steve.”

“Don’t be a fucking brat, Barnes.” Sam is quick to defend. “That girl and her sisters could have our heads hung up above their fireplace if you’re not careful.”

Bucky stops to look at them and scoffs. “They’re just a few demons. We’ve handled their kind before.”

Steve huffs while Sam shakes his head. “They’re not just any demons. They’re the Romanoff’s. The big guy’s most prized possessions.”

“Natasha - short hair, huge tits? She’s the ring leader, the oldest. Wanda is the youngest but most manipulative. Then there’s your girl,” Sam sighs before stating your name. “The total package. The Devil’s favorite. She’s more powerful than the others - and that’s saying something.” He steps closer and claps a hand to Bucky’s shoulder. “Dig yourself out of the grave you’re already in before it’s too late. Hate to lose your dumb ass because you were thinking with your dick and not your brain.”

None of them spoke a word on the drive to the apartment. Maybe Steve and Sam conversed with one another, but Bucky’s too consumed in his own thoughts to listen. He doesn’t comprehend the hold you have on him. Doesn’t know why he can’t shake it or why he craves you in a way he’s never experienced before.

In his one hundred plus years walking around this earth, he’s had infatuations. Many of flirtations and two night stands. But this is deeper. This is a yearning. The thought shakes him to his core.

The next morning, everyone packs their bags. Ready to take on the next location. Bucky doesn’t say a word. He obeys Steve’s and Sam’s warnings and goes through the motions. Takes his turn on the drive across country and puts on a happy façade to appease the others.

-

Salem, Massachusetts.

Halloween.

It’s overcast more often than not. Peaceful. Well, other than the disruption him and his friends bring. They keep a low profile. No one suspects them of the murders taking place.

He hasn’t thought about you in two weeks. He finds things to occupy his long, lonely nights. Afraid his subconscious will undermine his hard work and tease him with a glimpse of your face.

He takes up knitting.

But today — today was a downfall. Everything reminded him of you. The thick clouds shielding the sun above. The bone chilling breeze that rolls in every so often. Hell, he even wafts in the scent of lavender and honey, much like the night he first saw you. It’s comforting, but it mocks him.

He sits on a park bench. Crossword puzzle in hand. Glancing up every so often when children run passed him in their costumes and their trick-or-treat bags half full of candy.

“Camshaft.” A voice whispers in his ear.

He nearly jumps out of his skin and it makes you laugh. He hasn’t heard you laugh since that first night.

“W-What?” He looks at you quizzically.

You take a seat beside him on the bench and point to the newspaper in his lap. “Number 12 down. Camshaft.”

“Oh,” He reads over the clue and fills in the blanks before looking at you.

Fitted jeans, black suede knee high boots, an orange t-shirt and a leather jacket. You look, _normal_. Well, that’s a lie. You look like his wet dream come to life. But you don’t look like the kind of person to take pleasure out of killing and sucking the lives out of civilians.

“Want some?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts.

He looks at the Starbucks cup in your hand and raises a brow. “Is this?”

“Death by pumpkin? Hell no. It’s hot chocolate.”

He eyes you carefully, unsure if he should trust that it’s not roofied or something. But his gut tells him to trust you. And it’s 42 degrees out. He could use the warmth. He takes a long gulp from the cup and shudders when the drink flows down his throat.

“Oh God, what the fuck is in that?” He grimaces.

A smile spreads across your face and you shrug. “About three shots of whiskey.”

Bucky sighs and hands the cup back to you. “I gotta go.” He says unconvincingly, gathering his things and standing to his feet.

“Hey, Twilight.” You call after him. “Do you always do what your buddies tell you to do?”

“My name is Bucky.”

“Yeah, I remember.” You smile. If he had a heart, it would flutter. “Question still stands.”

He lowers his gaze when his cheeks flush pink. He feels like a child. “They said I should stay away from you. That you’re dangerous.”

You scoff and take a swig from your cup. “I’m no more dangerous than a saber-toothed blood sucker. We’re just on different sides of the same coin. You kill for food, I kill because it’s my job. Seems to me like I could help you out. Instead of having twice the casualties, you can have the left overs from what I leave behind.”

“Your sisters won’t have their own opinions about you hanging around with a vampire?” Bucky chuckles, taking his seat back next to you.

You lean into him, a wide grin stretches across your lips. “My sisters don’t know everything I do.”

“Fair enough.” His gaze lingers a little longer than necessary. He studies the gold flecks in your eyes. The curves of your lips. “Why me?” He mumbles. “Why do you wanna spend your time runnin’ around with me?”

You lick over your bottom lip as you silently survey him. “Honestly?” He nods. “I’m drawn to you. Don’t know if it’s that pouty, brooding thing you got going on or if it’s those sweet baby blues. But I like you.”

Bucky fights the smirk that dares show on his features. “Don’t act so nonchalant. I know your pants get tight every time I’m around.” You taunt, making his face fall. “C’mon. This is my favorite day of the year. Can’t waste it.”

Your hand wraps around his and he feels a spark of electricity. If he wasn’t in trouble before, he sure as hell is now.

-

The first time you fuck him, he swears he’s died and gone to heaven.

Your skin is so soft and warm under his cold, calloused hands. He’s intoxicated by your scent and his head spins each time he kisses you, deep and passionate.

“Holy hell, baby, you’re as hard as a fucking rock. How long has it been since you’ve fucked someone?”

You’re on top of him, straddling his waist and grinding yourself against him shamelessly. Bucky sits on a plush velvet couch. Music pumps from the other side of the walls and there are sheer curtains surrounding the both of you while a soft purple hue casts some light from the neon bulbs positioned just under the crown molding.

You took him to a night slash gentleman’s club you and your sisters do business out of in Boston. Took advantage of a vacant private room and Bucky was just along for the ride.

“‘Bout a month before I met you.” He confesses. “You ruined women for me. No one else was good enough.” He’s breathless as you continue to assault his neck.

His hands push the skirt of your dress up to rest around your hips. You know you have to work fast or else he’s gonna blow his load faster than either of you want. He watches as your nimble fingers unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, reach into his briefs and free him of his restraints. He’s lined up at your entrance and he gapes at the sight of you sinking down on his length.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He whimpers, holding you still once he’s bottomed out. You look down at him. Cup his jaw in your hand and feel the scruff of his beard beneath your fingertips. He opens his eyes and you almost gasp at the way he looks at you. He longs for you. No one but you. It makes you ache. 

“Let me take care of you.” You whisper, brushing your thumb over his pillowy bottom lip.

Your hips roll into his and he thrusts up into you, slowly at first, until his drive get the better of him. The music is loud enough to guise the lustful sounds scratching from deep inside your throat. His mouth latches onto the side of your neck. He leaves bruises in his wake but you know he’s holding back. He wants nothing more than to bare his fangs and sink them into your flesh. 

And _God_ , the thought of it actually turns you on. 

You have your way with him, and he you, three times within the same hour. You make a mental note to tell the staff to clean the private rooms throughly before you leave.

-

“We know what you’re doing.” Wanda chastises.

It was late. About three in the morning and you were returning from a fresh fucking with Bucky. You could no longer count on both hands the number of times you’ve been together. You honestly thought they would have found out sooner than this.

You drop your bag to the floor and walk over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the shit.” Natasha snaps, making you jump back slightly. “We let it slide at first. Give your scraps to Dracula Jr and his friends. Whatever. But now you’ve taken it too far.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t criticize me, Nat. Not when you had your little pet Barton wrapped around your finger. You stunk like wet dog for months and I didn’t say a damn word about it.”

Wanda’s jaw drops slightly at the mention of Clint and Natasha’s expression falls for only a few second before recomposing herself. “Yeah, well you should have. Should’ve talked some sense into me. Maybe he’d still be alive if you did.”

There’s a lump that forms in your throat and you try to swallow it down before speaking. “I’m a big girl. I can take handle the repercussions that come. Just as you two can handle your own shit, and just like he can handle his.”

“And if Luce finds out, you think he won’t have a punishment waiting for you?” Wanda asks, a frustrated crease forming between her eyes. “You think he won’t kill him?”

“Lucifer won’t have to worry about that.” Natasha declares, folding her arms over her chest. “End it now. If we find out you’re with him again,” She looks over at Wanda and nods. “We’ll kill him.”

Your teeth grind when your jaw clenches. One blink and your eyes are submerged in onyx. “Lay one finger on him and I’ll tear all ten of them off and shove them down your throat.”

Natasha is unfazed by your threat. “Then don’t make me.”

Those words are all she leaves you with before leaving you and Wanda in the kitchen and heading to her bedroom.

“Don’t make us do something we don’t wanna do. End it. Now.” Wanda sighs and turns on her heel.

“Bitches.” You mumble under your breath.

-

Late November.

It starts to snow. A thin layer is blanketed on the ground and frost collects on the windows in Bucky’s apartment.

Your sisters are none the wiser. You gave your word that you weren’t seeing Bucky anymore and like fools, they believed you.

You fist at the dark blue sheets on his bed. Back arched off of the mattress and legs trembling as Bucky feasts on your pussy. He’s like a man starved, lapping at your folds, licking harsh stripes up and down your cunt and sucking on your bundle of nerves. He’s been edging you for an hour now. Teasing and taunting you with the promise of orgasm but denying you of it when you get too close.

He takes pride in the fact that he can make you react this way. That you lay there wanton, begging for him.

A few strands of hair fall from the bun at the nape of his neck. The scruff dusted over his cheeks add to the pleasure. His beard scratches against your soft thighs, makes you squeeze your legs around his head in attempt to keep him from straying, attempt to finally reach your peek.

Bucky pushes three fingers past your barriers and grins up at you like a cheshire cat. “Beg for it.” You cry out in frustration. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He curls his digits and chuckles wickedly. “Beg.” He coos.

“Goddammit,” Falls in a whimper from your mouth. “Please! Please, Bucky. Let me cum. I need it. Need it so fucking bad.” You sound so whiney and pathetic that it makes you sick.

He strokes your sweet spot a few times before removing his fingers and sucking them clean as he stands to his feet. He stands proud and erect. Dick pulsating and veins bulging. “Why don’t you use that pretty little mouth on my cock and show me just how much you need it?”

You want to argue. Want to protest. But you don’t. You roll over onto your knees and take him into your mouth without having to be told twice.

“Fu-uck,” He groans, his hand cradling the back of your head. “Atta girl.” He praises, knees buckling when you take all of him into the warmth of your mouth. You gag. Saliva drips down your chin and the sounds you make are obscene.

Your tongue strokes the underside of his length and you hollow your cheeks, suckling at his tip and tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit.

You’re bent over, the curves of your ass on display and he’s never wanted to plow into you more than this instant. He cums without warning - the thought alone driving him mad.

You’re able to swallow everything he gives you before he pulls you up on your knees and kisses you harshly, tongue and teeth while his hand snakes between your bodies. “Want me to fuck your tight little pussy? Want me to make you cum?”

“Yes,” You reply breathlessly as he circles your clit.

Bucky flips you onto your stomach, facing the headboard. He pulls your hips up and you rest on your knees. He enters you swiftly and you both see stars. He fucks you hard. Anomalistically. You succumb to orgasm twice in the span of five minutes.

-

Christmas.

Natasha and Wanda have vacated to warmer weather. Miami. 

You insisted on staying behind and taking care of business in Salem.

Bucky’s head is on your bare chest. Listening to your heartbeat. Watching your breasts rise and fall with each breath and circling his fingertip around your hardened nipple.

“Have you ever thought about tasting me?” You ask curiously.

Bucky picks his head up, a cocky grin plastered across his lips. “I have tasted you. On many occasions.”

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. Have you thought about tasting my blood.”

The question catches him off guard, but he answers honestly.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. Why do you—“ He’s barely able to finish speaking before you reach over to the small knife on your bedside table.

You prick your fingertip and hold it out to him. His eyes widen. He was unprepared for the way his body reacted. Your name falls from his lips in a sigh but you feel his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Go ahead.”

He’s hesitant. Knows if he has one taste, even the smallest taste, he’ll crave more.

“If you don’t take it, I will.”

That does him in. He takes your hand and sucks your pointer finger into his mouth, his tongue licking the tiny wound until it stops bleeding.

He sighs contently and lets his eyes flutter closed for a moment. When he looks up at you, his pupils are dilated. Like he’s strung out and you’re his drug.

His tip is leaking now. Smearing clear arousal along your inner thigh. 

_Fuck._ It turns him on as much as it turns you on.

You bring the blade to your forearm, creating a small knick in the space between your wrist and elbow. Blood trickles down your arm and he’s quick to clean it up with his tongue, crimson staining his taste buds. 

_He groans._

The most filthy sound you’ve ever heard him emit. 

It makes you wet. Makes you quiver with want. With Lust. With need.

You’re above him in an instant. The blade tucked safely away in the drawer of the nightstand. Then he’s inside you. Thick and throbbing, your walls already clenching around him.

Bucky holds you to him. Wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dipping his head down and taking a nipple into his mouth, flicking the bud with his tongue and sucking tentatively.

He guides your hips and thrusts up into you while nipping gently at your throat. Your eyes widen as a thought pops into your head.

“Bite.” You encourage.

Bucky stills his movements but you keep going, grinding against him and making him whimper. He looks up at you, looking absolutely wrecked. He’s so close to release.

“I-I can’t. I might not be able to stop.”

You cup his face in your hands, all while still riding him for all he’s worth. “I trust you.” You tilt your head to give him better access. “Bite. You want to so bad. I can feel it.”

Your cunt constricts around him. Pushes him further and further to the edge until he can’t take it. Can’t deny himself of what you offer freely.

Bucky nuzzles into the side of your neck and bites into your skin. Feels the flesh tear through his fangs. He’s careful. Avoids major veins and arteries. But it’s still oh so satisfying.

You both cum together. Thrashing. Convulsing. Writhing in each other’s arms until the spasms die down.

Bucky laps at the wound with his tongue until the bleeding stops. 

You hold him close. Whisper sweet nothings in his ear and run your fingers through his thick locks. He leaves open mouthed kisses along your clavicles and holds you to him as he lays you down, his half hard cock still nestled inside of you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He laughs softly, nosing against your jaw.

You can’t help but wonder if that’s the truth.

It’s true. You were in way too deep now. Addicted to him, and he to you. Your story with Bucky won’t have a happy ending. It can’t. But until then, you’re gonna enjoy basking in a post orgasm glow with the blizzard roaring outside. 

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